Hated Facade
by LetsGoDancing17
Summary: Rachel Parks is sent to the colonies with her new mentor, though she isn't known as Rachel. She calls herself Richard Parks. She has been disguising herself as a man. She is just seeking the advancement of her skills, but she didn't expect emotions and other issues to get in the way. She also didn't expect for her mentor to be so observant. (Eventual Haytham/OC)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: An idea of mine that cropped up on me. This one is more romance targeted than my other one. Anyway, here is the first chapter. Feel free to let me know what you think of it so far.**

* * *

**Hated Facade**

**Chapter One**

* * *

She could feel the warm water in her mouth, the smell of the tea in her nostrils. A small contented smile crossed her face as she swallowed her mouthful of warm tea, just simply holding the cup under her nose for a few moments to inhale the sweet aroma.

Rachel Park's mother, Esther, smiled warmly at her daughter. It was rare to see her sitting, holding a cup of tea in her hands, dressed in woman's clothing for once. She looked like the woman that she was supposed to be. Though, Esther wished that her husband would just let her be as such, but it was far too late to change it.

Rachel was their secret that only showed her true self as their daughter in the comfort and safety of their home. To the outside world, she was known as Richard Parks, their "son". Rachel's father had wanted her to bare a son, one that he could train and eventually introduce to the Order. Esther was only able to bare one child, Rachel.

Her brown eyes looked over her daughter's face, Rachel too absorbed in her tea to notice her staring. She had a rather boyish face, which her father had used to his advantage once her realized that she was much more adventurous and wild than girls at her age. Of course, only a few people knew of Rachel's true identity, but with her father's power and intimidation, not very many people spoke out about such things.

They usually didn't live long enough to tell.

Rachel glanced up at her mother, a small smile crossing her face, "is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Esther just smiled at her, "I enjoy seeing you like this. I wish your father would let you be the woman you are becoming."

"I do wish it as well, but I cannot change it," Rachel said, taking a sip from her teacup. Esther frowned, letting out a small sigh through her nose as she looked down at her folded hands resting on her lap. She was about to comment on what Rachel had said when the door to the room was opened, her husband stepping inside.

Rachel sat up straighter, placing her cup down as she looked over at him. "Father," she greeted, the older man just nodding in return and walked towards the two of them.

"There is something I wish to discuss with my daughter," he said, Esther gesturing towards the table that she was sitting at.

"We were just having some tea, I am sure it can wait-"

"It is urgent," her father stated, his eyes moving from his wife to his daughter, who studied him for a few moments, then just nodded and stood.

"I apologize, mother," Rachel said, "I am sure our tea can wait."

Esther frowned, looking slightly dejected. She just simply nodded, allowing the two of them to walk out of the room.

* * *

Once Rachel reached her father's study, she turned to face him. A small smile crossed her face, folding her hands in front of herself.

"What is it you wished to discuss with me?" she asked, watching him carefully as he shut the door to the study, turning to face her.

"I have some news that may come as a surprise to you, but I insist that you take this opportunity," her father explained, walking towards her, "I have gotten word that Master Birch is allowing you to be mentored by a more experienced member than myself."

Rachel nodded, glancing down, "this is...great news, father. May I ask who my mentor will be?"

"Haytham Kenway."

She blinked, furrowing her brow. She had heard of the Templar in question, but had yet to put a face to the name. Her father seemed like he wanted to add more, Rachel sensing a catch to the whole thing.

"Yet, Mister Kenway is being sent to the colonies. If you are to train under him, you must go with him. Which means leaving here for an undetermined amount of time."

"Ah..." Rachel said, taking that in. She had never left her home before, at least not as far as the colonies, which was more than a month's journey. She knew that her mother wouldn't take the news all that well, and Rachel wasn't too sure she could keep up her facade as Richard for that long before rousing suspicion.

"I suggest that you take this opportunity," her father said, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder, "there is only so much I can teach you. If you were to expand your knowledge, there is no telling what you may accomplish."

"Are you sure I am ready for such a thing?" Rachel asked, "I have been able to keep up my disguise, but I am not sure I will be able to keep pretending to be something I am not. Especially in front of someone who will most likely notice the small things that I am not able to cover with an overcoat and trousers."

"You will be fine," her father said, "I have faith in you."

Rachel glanced down towards the floor once again, where her dress swayed just above her ankles, she knew she would miss being able to wear such things. Yet, she had given up such things when her father had trained her and introduced her as his son.

He had taught her how to act, how to speak and walk so that she wouldn't be able to give herself away. She was the perfect gentleman.

"You are twenty-five," her father said, "it is best you move on from here."

"I cannot simply move on when I am forced to be someone I am not," Rachel stated in that calm voice of hers, though she had to work to keep her anger out of her voice. She shook her head, placing her hands on her hips as she let out a sigh.

"Yet, you have convinced me," she said with a defeated sigh, "I will work under Haytham Kenway and leave for the colonies."

"Wonderful," her father said with a smile, "now, it is best you get yourself ready. Your ship leaves at dawn."

Rachel gaped at him slightly, her eyes widening, "you should have told me that I was to leave so soon! I will barely have enough time to say my farewell to mother."

"I will tell your mother of your decision," her father said, Rachel nodding as he left his study. She started to head up to her bedroom, her mind buzzing with questions.

The first being: why? Why did she even agree to this?

* * *

The bandages were tight around her torso, as tight as they had always been. Rachel pulled the white undershirt over her head, making sure that the bandages didn't show through the material. She watched herself in the mirror as she pulled her brown hair back into a pony tail at the base of her neck, pulling on the dull grey overcoat, buttoning it up. Finally, she placed the tricorn hat on her head to complete the whole outfit.

She had barely any sleep the night before, the lack of sleep seeming to reflect back in her stare. She fixed the collar of her coat, bending down to pick up her case and headed downstairs. She took a moment to look around her home, taking it into her memory for comfort sake. She had yet to see her mother or father, though she was almost expecting to not be greeted as she was leaving.

Rachel continued out into the early morning, it was still rather dark outside. She was surprised to see her mother standing just at the base of the front stairs. Rachel approached her, her face expressionless as she approached her.

Esther sighed, pulling her into a quick embrace. "I wish you would leave this path you are on," she said softly, "I worry for if you are spotted, these men are dangerous."

"I will be fine, mother, I assure you," Rachel said, giving her a small smile. Esther didn't return it, her face still hard and troubled. Rachel could tell that she was strongly against this, and the idea of forgetting the whole thing seemed like a rather good idea at the moment. Yet, Rachel just placed her hand on her mother's shoulder.

"I will be fine," she repeated, her mother just nodding.

"Write to me," she said, Rachel removing her hand from her shoulder.

"You know that you can't reply back. It is too risky, someone could find the letters."

"I will not reply then, but ease my worry with a letter when you are able. Just so I know that you haven't perished," Esther said, her voice catching. Rachel just sighed, nodding her head after a few moments.

"Fine," she said, "I will write when I am able."

"Thank you," Esther said, "you should leave now, you don't want to make a bad impression by being late."

Rachel expected the statement to be made with a smile, maybe a proud look, but her mother said it blankly, like she had been rehearsing it. Rachel wanted to chuckle and give her a warm smile. The idea that such a gesture would pry a smile out of her mother, but she just nodded her head.

"I will try my best."

* * *

The ride to the docks felt like the longest one of her life, Rachel's heart was racing and she was worried about her voice being too high when she spoke. The driver still believed that she was male, at least. Rachel sighed, watching as the ocean came into view. The sun was just starting to rise over the waters, and already the dock was bustling with life and activity.

As the driver stopped just at the docks, he jumped off and opened the door for her to step out.

"Have a pleasant trip, sir."

"Thank you," Rachel replied, making sure to keep her voice low, quiet. Like her father had taught her, something she thought she had mastered. Yet, she was questioning it now. None the less, she picked up her case and started towards the boat. The Providence, if she remembered correctly.

She walked quickly down the dock, her eyes scanning the people she passed. A lot of them seemed to be crew members, though when she found her mentor, he stood out pretty clearly. He stood with his hands behind his back, most likely looking for her as well.

_The moment of truth..._Rachel thought to herself as she approached, Haytham's gaze finally meeting her own. Her heart started to race, she hoped her anxiety didn't show too clearly on her face.

"Richard Parks?" Haytham asked, his voice was smooth and intimidating. Rachel nodded as she approached, placing her bag down and extended her hand.

"Master Kenway," she greeted as he shook her hand. She tried not to shrink under his gaze, she just stared back at him with a polite smile. He pulled his hand back, Rachel backing up a bit.

"You are late," he stated, Rachel bowing her head slightly.

"I apologize, sir," she said, Haytham not replying as he turned towards the ship and started to walk, leaving Rachel to follow behind him. A small part of her wanted to sneak away while his back was turned, make a run for it.

But, the time to change her mind had passed the moment she walked onto the dock.

Now, it was all about keeping up her facade.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here is the second chapter, which was a little tough to write. That partly explains why it is so short. Though, I hope it is enjoyable.**

* * *

**Hated Facade **

**Chapter Two**

* * *

_Dearest Mother, _

_Ah, the mess I have gotten myself into. _

_This ship has set sail for the colonies, and I am now trapped here. I do realize that writing to you while at sea is rather pointless, but you had said you wanted letters so you could see how I am fairing. Speaking of, I am starting to doubt my abilities that father has taught me. I have never had to keep up this identity of mine for too long, weeks at most. Yet, I always had a safe place where I could be myself. I have a ship that I am confined to for months, where my cabin is the only place where I have some privacy and where I am able to revert back to my usual self behind a closed door. _

_I have not even been at sea for a day and I am already doubtful of everything I do..._

_My mentor, Haytham Kenway...I don't know what to tell you of him. Every moment I spend with him, I am suddenly aware of every little mistake I make, every little slip up. Even know, I am looking at my hand that is writing out these words and I am realizing just how feminine they are. The thing is, I am almost certain he catches these things as well. Though, he has never commented on them. Maybe I am worrying myself too much? _

_I hate to admit it, but I am terrified of the man. I can only hope more days at sea will ease my worries. _

_Even now, as I am writing to you in the candle light of my small cabin, I am worried about prying eyes. Still, I will keep writing you. It seems to ease my mind, as I hope it does yours. _

_Do not fear for me, I am sure I will be alright. _

_Best regards, _

_R. Parks _

Tired brown eyes read over the letter, Rachel nodding her head as she reread the words written there. Carefully, she folded the letter and walked towards the small case that sat in a dark part of her cramped cabin. She stuck the letter at the bottom, covering it up with the few books and clothing that she had packed with her.

She carefully closed the case, latching it and walked across the floor towards the small bed at the side. The door to the cabin was closed, but she didn't trust herself enough to undress much. With a sigh, she lay herself out on the bed, curling into herself slightly so that she fit the bed. She removed her hat, placing it on one of her raised knees and studied it for a few moments.

Rachel closed her eyes, letting the sway of the ship and the sound of the ocean pull her into a light, worried, sleep where confusing and frightening nightmares plagued her mind.

* * *

"Richard," Haytham came striding towards the slightly startled woman, who turned to face him with a rather expressionless gaze.

"Sir," she greeted, making sure to use "Richard's" voice. Something she had been practising for the duration of the morning by having small conversations with some of the crew. It had helped raise her confidence slightly, at least.

"Come, we have much to discuss," Haytham stated, walking past her as Rachel sighed lightly as she went to follow him. "I apologize for the lack of conversation over the past few days, it has been rather busy, as you can see."

"You need not to apologize to me, sir, as I am sure you have your own business that needs tending to," Rachel stated, folding her hands behind her back so that she wouldn't clasp them in front of herself. Much too lady like.

"Indeed," Haytham stated, his eyes moving towards some of the crew that were below deck. "With that aside, I am hoping we could talk more of your training. If you are to be working under me, I do hope that you have _some_ skill."

"My father had taken it upon himself to train me from a young age, I have knowledge in handling a sword and a few other weapons, sir."

"What of your skill in climbing? Information gathering?"

"I have some," Rachel stated, "which I am hoping to improve."

Haytham nodded, turning to face her finally. Rachel found that she preferred that he kept his back to her, glancing over his shoulder. Her doubts started to surface once again, but she stopped within a few steps of him, standing straight.

"I do hope you are aware of my other duties as well, you will have to take it upon yourself to train by observation when I am not able to train you myself."

"Of course, sir," Rachel said once again, nodding her head once.

Haytham nodded once again, turning to continue their walk. Rachel repressed to let out a relieved sigh, trying not to stumble when she started to walk once again.

"So, you are the son of Victor Parks, correct?"

"Yes," Rachel said, proud of how steady her voice had become. She secretly hated being called the "son" of Esther and Victor Parks, but she had learned not to let that show.

"Very insistent your father is," Haytham commented, "though he is very loyal, determined."

"I will have to let him know of your phrase," Rachel remarked, not too interested in talking of her father. The Order is all he speaks of and how he hopes that one day she would be able to take his place. All he really wanted out of a child. Out of a _son_.

"What of you?" Haytham asked, "are you here of your own choosing?"

"Yes, sir," Rachel said, wondering where he was going with this.

"I understand that your father had insisted that you be trained by someone with more experience, though I wish to know if _you_ are the one who seeks more training. I will not train someone who isn't willing to be trained."

"I do wish to be trained, sir," Rachel stated, "my father may have insisted, but I share in his wish for the advancement of my skills."

"Very well, I will train you," Haytham stated, "though, I fear there isn't much I can do for you while on this ship. I will make sure to notify you if I wish for you to do something for me."

"Thank you, sir," Rachel said, taking that as a dismissal and felt that she couldn't have gotten away from him fast enough. The lack of sleep and the general situation was already starting to wear on her, and she only hoped that her disguise wasn't wearing as well.

* * *

There wasn't something quite right with Richard Parks.

Haytham noticed that he seemed to have a bit of an odd look to him, his facial features not as sharp and masculine as he was used to seeing, his voice was soft and rather quiet. He seemed thoughtful, most likely a man who spent quite some time brooding to himself. Though, when he had spoke of his parents and training, Haytham could see the determination on his face and heard it in his voice.

Though, with those things aside, Haytham couldn't help but notice the things that rose some suspicion within him. His walk, for one. It happened to be the first thing that Haytham seemed to notice about Richard. Usually he wouldn't notice such a thing, but the way Richard carried himself was different from what he expected. When he walked, there wasn't much power in his stride. His footfalls were light, graceful, and it struck him as odd.

His hands were smooth, soft. Feminine, even.

Haytham didn't want to doubt his charge, really, but he couldn't help but start to wonder about Richard. He had chose to overlook the odd things about him for the most part, but once they started to reach a month aboard the ship, he noticed that Richard had disappeared for a week or so. His cabin door was shut, and Haytham wondered if he even left it at all.

Richard had explained that he was feeling ill, but not to worry about him too much. This was said to him while the man in question seemed to hide a bit behind his cabin door. Though, he seemed to recover rather quickly after a week, Richard hadn't left to visit the doctor so Haytham believed that the illness he had caught must not have been too problematic.

Even then, the whole incident had only seemed to fuel his suspicion of him even more. Richard seemed like a reliable and determined man, though there were a number of things about him that seemed too...gentle.

His first concern was that he would be too weak to train, possibly a coward. Someone who would freeze up in the midst of battle, or lock up at the prospect of taking a life.

The son of the Parks', the man that he was to train, had turned out to be very different from what he had been told about him. Either his father had exaggerated about the great qualities of his son, or that Richard is not who he claims to be.

A spy, possibly? Maybe an enemy has posed as Richard to infiltrate his mission, to kill him. Though, the idea seemed absolutely outlandish, but there was always the possibility. Regardless, Haytham knew that he needed more evidence before he could confront him. He refused to make a fool of himself by questioning Richard without good reason to do so. For the moment, he was to keep an eye on his charge, get a sense of how he really is. If he is even who he claims to be.

Though, if he is a threat to him or his mission, he had to be dealt with as soon as possible.


End file.
